Afterglow Pt. 02

The woman sat on the stools to the right of me and ordered their own drinks.

"Sorry," Rose whispered after a while. "I was embarrassed. I never... n-never thought it would come out. That he would keep them." She gulped some of her drink down and then met my eyes with her tear-filled ones. "Things were so good in the beginning, Liz. Then he just turned and I was so lost and... He made me write those letters. And we were together, and it got him off and made him happy and I didn't think anything of it." She scoffed. "Well, I did. I hated it. I thought it was weird. I wanted to break up with him long before I did because of it. But still I just thought it was fantasy." She shuddered. "Now...now I think it's more than a fantasy."

I put my arm around her and squeezed her closer. "We'll get him. One way or the other."

"The other way might mean us dying," Felicity cut in, her eyes fierce.

"Let's try to be a little more positive," I muttered and proceeded to finish three vodkas in under a half hour.

OOOOO

Something was licking me.

"Toronto," I muttered sleepily. "Stop. I'll take you out in a minute."

The lapping continued up my leg. Then hot breath blew against the thin fabric of my panties and my eyes popped open.

Olivia's naked body rested between my spread legs, that beautiful smile spread across her face. "Good Morning."

"How the... What—How can you—"

"Your neighbor let me in. Guess I don't look particularly suspicious." Her attention drifted back to my wet panties and her voice lowered. "Little does he know."

"Olivia, I can't right now. I have to"—I checked the clock—"get to work in an hour and a half."

Olivia didn't bother glancing up. "Plenty of time for me to feast."

"No, there isn't."

"God, I'm so thrilled you're wearing white panties. I can see how wet and pink you are underneath and the fabric is so wet and—God. Makes me so hungry for you, baby. And I've been so hungry lately."

"Olivia, I'm serious! I have to show and—oh!"

She gave my panties an open-mouthed kiss with a damp flick of her tongue against my clothed clit. My thighs automatically tightened to move her head in further, and the erotic feeling of her smooth hair against the silkiness of my legs made the gesture even more erotic.

Her eyes flicked up to mine as she slipped her index finger into the side of the panties and bared a small portion of my dripping pussy to her hungry eyes. I must've looked dazed with lust and wonder because she let out a throaty laugh that vibrated up from my pussy through my spine.

"I'm going to eat you out so good, baby. You're going to be boneless for the rest of the day. You need this. You need my tongue. You need the pleasure it'll give you. And," she smiled, "you need to relax."

I saw no need to fight with her and rested back on the pillow, sighing when I felt her drag my panties down my legs. They got caught around one ankle and she ripped them away, impatient and apparently as needy as I was at the moment.

I thought she'd tease me. A lick here, a nudge there and a suck when she was feeling particularly charitable. But no. She was insatiable. She dug her mouth into my pussy, alternately running her tongue up my lips and flicking her tongue against my clit, which felt like fierce vibration.

I was going to come. It was there already, building up from my stomach and through my chest. I was screaming, pulling her hair and shoving her closer to my desperate aching. My cunt was wetter than I could believe; her mouth slid against it effortlessly. She drank from me, greedy and thirsty.

Her wild moans made the pleasure unbearable for me. I couldn't take it. My head tossed back and forth in an helpless display of overwhelmed orgasmic delight.

"I'm going to come," I wept.

Just like that she was gone. My pussy contracted wistfully.

"Where are you—"

"Hush," she whispered. She climbed up next to me and then her head turned, baring a bright and excited smile. "Sit on my face."

I'd dreamt of that. Many times. I'd never even done it with a man. I was afraid to sit like that, to bare it all, to be in so much control and to be so obviously wanton and slutty. But Olivia wanted it and her tugging hands were pulling me closer, convincing me all the more. I took a deep breath and moved over her.

It was awkward at first. My knee bumped her nose.

"Shit, sorry!"

She laughed and shook her head. "Sink that pussy on my face."

I lowered my hips until I felt her hot, damp breath blowing against my flesh in bursts. My thighs were on either side of her head, pressed against her ears. I stared at her, her face upside down, and rested my shaky body against the headboard. Her hair was scattered all over and she was flushed and so, so sexy.

I wasn't down all the way. She wouldn't stand for my hesitation, and instead slipped out her long tongue and sent it on a long, deliberate lick.

Moaning and shuddering, my body mindlessly ground against her mouth. Sunlight filtered into the room through my blinds and illuminated her face. I could see my juices all over her chin, and even her nose, and I became nothing but a woman eager to come by her lover's tongue.

I began to ride her face. She made a sound of pleasure and it sent fire up my spine. My pace increased and I became wild, fucking her face. My hair thrashed around, sometimes sticking to my open mouth. Her tongue shoved itself into my pussy, the soaked tastebuds running roughly against my smooth, wet walls.

"Oh, God," I chanted over and over again.

Olivia turned her attention back to my clit, slurping it inside her mouth and alternately sucking and flipping it. Suddenly three of her slender fingers were working themselves into my tight hole. Realizing what she intended to do, my head flung back and I cried out.

"Play with your nipples," she mumbled into my flesh. "Want you to come."

So I did as she asked. My hips sped up as her fingers and tongue did. I delighted in being fucked by her like this, and once I started pinching my nipples I knew an amazing orgasm was careening fast towards me.

I wasn't wrong. Her tongue bathed my clit while her fingers fucked me roughly. I let out a high-pitched whine that only grew higher as the threat of orgasm rose and flooded over.

"Olivia!"

My knuckles were white while I held onto the headboard for dear life. She continued fucking me through the most intense orgasm I'd ever had. The wet sound of her fingers moving through my pussy sharpened the pleasure and I bit my lip, resting my head against the wood.

When I lifted my hips and adjusted them away, she got the hint I couldn't bear anymore tortuous pleasure. I heard and felt her panting.

When I'd regained enough breath for what I intended to do next, I dragged my body down hers. Our nipples rubbed against one another and we both closed our eyes at the sensation. I remembered what my plan was, however, and I refused to be sidetracked.

I lifted my tit up to her smaller one and let my nipple run against the hardness of her own. Her eyes fluttered open and her eyes bore into mine. I strained my neck so I could lick both our nipples at once. Olivia said something in another language, something that sounded absolutely like a curse.

Her cheeks were blushed beneath her olive skin. Her eyes were shiny and desperate. Her chest was flushed, and those nipples... those raspberry-colored nipples so bright against the coffee of her flesh... I'd devour them all day if I had the time.

But I didn't have the time, at least not today.

"I have to rush this. I'm sorry I can't give you the time you deserve. I wish we had more time."

"Shut up," Olivia rasped, her lips still wet from my cum. "Rush all you want. I'm nearly there. Don't stop."

Funny how sex brought her accent out more. It was hypnotizing, the sound of her voice.

I slipped a few fingers inside her. My mouth dropped when I found how wet she was. It shouldn't have been surprising, for she was clearly a sexual woman, but the fact that bringing me to orgasm was enough to do this to her was both humbling and fuckhot.

She writhed below me, fucking my fingers. I tutted and moved them out. "It's my turn to make you crazy."

"Fuck, you already have! Just make me come!"

I leant down to her face and kissed her, tasting myself on her tongue. Then I whispered, "So bossy," into her mouth. I returned my tongue to her clit.

My fingers plunged in and out. I curved them a little, remembering porn videos I'd seen before with other boyfriends, boyfriends who obviously didn't take the notes I did. Seeing the electricity zing through Olivia's body told me I found her spot.

She caught me grinning like a smug bitch and distractedly gave me the finger.

I prodded at that spot, my fingers thrusting relentlessly inside her. She screamed and begged and wept over and over until suddenly her entire body seized and she grunted, releasing all over my tongue.

I was winded and took my time catching my breath, leaning back on my heels to stare at her blushing body. Her pussy was pink and shimmering. I'd eat her all day if I could. I recalled the last thought I had after we had sex—that I'd loved it.

Then it dawned on me how ridiculous this all was. When the hell did I become a pussy-greedy lesbian?

"Uh, oh," Olivia whispered.

I glanced back at her. "What?"

"You're freaking out again."

"Am not."

She tried to fight a smile and failed. She sat up and moved herself next me, her arm touching mine. "It's okay to be scared. I don't mind. It's scary for me, too. And I know this is new for you, and I know how busy you are. And I'm sorry I haven't been able to take you out on a good date, yet. A date you know for sure is a date from the start. Not like last time. That might help clarify things for you. And I don't want you to keep doing stuff only to regret it later."

"I don't regret this, Olivia. I loved it. Really. It was the best sex I ever had. I'm just... It's just so weird for me."

"Was my tongue inside of you weird?" She stuck her tongue in her cheek and gave me a wicked smile.

I laughed. "Yes and no! I don't know!"

She bent one of legs at the knee and turned so that I could get a glimpse of her stretched pussy. "Which do you like better? My pussy or my tongue?"

"Both," I murmured, fascinated when she scooped up a bit of her wetness and slipped her finger into my mouth.

"I don't have the answers for you, darling, but we can figure it out together when you get through this case. There is no rush."

My mood sobered. "I have you tailed by cops, okay? That monster knows about you."

"And you? Are you protected?"

"Yes, of course I am."

She nodded and ran a hand down my goosebumped side. "Obviously you're dropping the case."

It wasn't a question.

"No. I'm seeing it through. I refuse to be intimidated."

I expected her to fight me on it, but she merely nodded and squeezed my hand.

"I'm just really worried about you," I admitted. "I'm so sorry I dragged you into this mess."

Olivia stood and moved to look down at me. My eyes followed the length of her body. Her smile was soft and knowing. "I can take care of myself."

She did look powerful, all bronzed feminine authority. She was the embodiment of sexuality, but there was a calming, nurturing side of her, too. Madonna-Whore, Jackie O-Marilyn. I had no doubt she'd fight the shit out of Dan if she were ever faced with him, but I was terrified at the possibility of him winning.

"All the same."

"I have a gun, you know. Several. Does that shock you?"

"What? You have guns?" My eyes popped open. "Are they legal?"

Olivia giggled and leant over to give me a quick peck on the lips.

"Yes. And I even know how to shoot them, too."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

She cupped my cheek. "Poor baby. Maybe we'll go on a vacation when you're done. After you accept you want this and that little guilt stops sneaking in."

"I don't feel guilty!"

She glanced at the clock and then looked back at me, her smile even sweeter. She stroked a piece of my hair and slipped it behind my ear.

"You need to get to work."

I got up, letting my bare body run up against hers. "I don't regret this. And I'm sorry but I'm probably going to have a few more freak-outs before I get used to this. I want you to know, though, that I like you. I like this. It's important to me, and so are you. Okay?"

She answered me with a kiss that scattered all of my overly-analytical thoughts. This is why I cared for her; she made me remember to feel. To live. To enjoy. To touch.

Maybe our little affair was distracting me. The little spectacle in court was certainly humiliating, and perhaps I might have been more diligent in my research if I wasn't so busy freaking out over my sexual identity.

Yet at the same time I think it was getting me in touch with emotions (sounds lame, I know) that I'd buried or pushed to the side in order to come off as a razor tough bitch in the courtroom. The softer side of myself had been dormant for too long. It could help me in this case. It could light the fire under my ass and give me the disgust and determination to whop Fontaine's dick in court. And get Dan Tierney in prison, where he could never torment another girl.

When Olivia pulled away from our kiss and looked at me like that—all gauzy and fuzzy and warm—I decided she was good for me in so many ways and I had no intention of letting her go anytime soon.

OOOOO

I was thanking God it was Friday when I decided to go check in with Daniel Tierney's mother. I'd wanted to before meeting with the judge, but I didn't have the time and I figured I had plenty of evidence without her to indict. Apparently not. At least now I'd have the weekend to go over whatever I could glean from her.

She lived in the suburbs in a shabbily painted house. Parts of the wood siding had fallen off, and the grass was obscenely overgrown. It was freezing when I hopped out of the cab. I handed the driver a bunch of twenties and asked him to wait for me. He grunted and pocketed the cash.

Two cats paced Mrs. Tierney's grass, watching me suspiciously as I approached the rickety porch steps. The front door was open behind the screen door, but I couldn't see anything inside. I pressed the doorbell button but there was no sound.

"Mrs. Tierney?" I called out. "Mrs. Tierney, are you in there?"

A flock of birds burst from some nearby naked trees and I shuddered. I knocked harder on the house. "Mrs. Tierney! It's Elizabeth Quilty from the District Attorney's office and I'd like to—"

"I know who you are," a voice said behind me.

I jumped and spun around, spotting an elderly woman at the bottom of the steps. She was bundled in a winter jacket and wore gloves, but she was covered in dirt. I realized then she was holding a mud-encrusted spade and deduced she'd been gardening. Apparently it didn't bother her that it looked like it might snow at any minute.

"Guess you want to come inside," she muttered, stomping up the stairs with a bad limp and pushing past me. The screen door slammed behind her.

Tentatively I followed her into the musty, faded household. Old pictures were nailed up on the wall against worn floral wallpaper. I thought I spotted a younger Dan Tierney in a few of them. A creepy crucifix hung next to them, and I felt the tortured Jesus staring me as I rushed by.

"Tea or coffee?" she called

"Tea, please."

Her kitchen was tiny and all green. The linoleum was faded, and the walls were also covered in tragically hideous and ancient wallpaper. The table was wooden and chipped, and the chair I sat in was uneven on one side.

The room was otherwise neat. A kitten peeked in from the hallway and spotted me. She scurried off. Mrs. Tierney had her back to me, running water into the kettle and then putting tea bags into chipped mugs.

"My son's lawyer said you'd be around here at some point."

"Mrs. Tierny, we need to talk about Lorna Stone."

Her back stiffened but her voice remained calm. "I'm sure you've read all you need to know about Lorna Stone."

"You reported him to the police for it, Mrs. Tierney. You knew he was troubled. You knew he was a threat."

She turned around and dusted imaginary dirt off her sweater. "My son enjoys dating mentally unstable women. They had a toxic relationship. That's all."

I gestured to the folder on the table. "Shall I show you the pictures of what he did to the woman he intended on marrying only four years ago? You'll see the same injuries that sent you into the police station asking them to go by his apartment. Have you forgotten?"

His mother glared at me, a tear escaping from one eye. She limped over and sat across from me. "No, that won't be necessary."

"I want to know more about her. Please. Has this kind of behavior of his manifested in other relationships, or did it just start with Lorna?"

His mother wrung her hands. "I don't understand why you need me. Why can't you ask her?"

A pang of sympathy went through my heart. "I'm sorry. She died in a car accident a little over a year ago. We only have her written accounts."

Mrs. Tierney collapsed, dropping her head into her hands. She burst out crying just as the kettle began shrieking. I ran over to turn off the gas and came back, tentatively touching her back.

"She was such a good girl," she said after a while. "I prayed for her every day. And I used to say to Danny all the time, 'Danny, she's a good girl. A good girl for you. Pretty, and she likes you. Why do you do this to her?' and he'd say, 'She just makes me so angry, Mom, and I can't stop.'"

I backed away from her and sat back in my seat. She wasn't crying anymore; now she stared at the manilla folder I'd threatened her with minutes before.

"He was always pushy with girls. I didn't know much, and I didn't want to. I was distracted with my two other sons, and my youngest—my daughter. Danny was always a secretive kid and I lost track of him when... I just didn't know. Didn't want to know."

"Why didn't Lorna Stone press charges? I can't find a reason written anywhere, and none of her friends knew. But you know, don't you?"

Mrs. Tierney stood and went back to the counter to prepare our tea. "Milk and sugar?"

"Please." She fixed our tea and I shifted impatiently in my chair. "Mrs. Tierney, why did she drop the charges?"

She brought the cups over and placed them on the table. Then she took great care as she sat down, and I could tell she was deliberating whether or not to tell the truth.

"He met Rose."

A stone of dread dropped into my stomach. "What?"

"I didn't think he'd ever leave Lorna alone. I begged him. He is such a nice-looking boy. He could have any girl he wanted as long as she wanted him back. But he was obsessed." She swirled a spoon around the surface of her tea. "Then he met Rose. I forget how. Anyway, he thought she was more suited to him or maybe he thought Lorna was a hassle or, I don't know, he just liked Rose better. Who knows. So he stopped bothering Lorna, and he called her one night and told her she'd never hear from him again if she dropped the charges."

"Mrs. Tierney. You know what your son has done to these women. Do you think he should be put away so he can't harm anyone else?"

She inhaled heavily and wiped at her cheeks.

"I think," she began slowly, "that you should leave."

She gathered up our cups and hobbled over to the sink.

"I'll subpoena you, Mrs. Tierney. I have no choice. I know you love your son but you have to stop him. Think of all the girls, all the daughters that have to—"

"I don't want to have to call the police. Please leave."

OOOOO

By the time I made it back to the city, it was lunchtime. Olivia demanded I meet her at this little artsy bistro in Brooklyn and I figured I might as well. The other cases on my desk didn't have any demanding tasks to be done, and my next court date for Daniel Tierney wasn't set for another week. I thought that was more than enough time for me to gather up his sleaze in a way to ensure a trial happened.